Not Sick Maid In Heaven

Many years ago my Mum worked as a bridal consultant for a well-known wedding dress shop. One day to get off College so I could bunk rugby I complained of having a stomachache. The situation was ridiculous. I'm a young man of 19 who had volunteered to continue with my education and study accounts so why the authorities insisted I had to do Rugby as part of the curriculum escaped me. Anyhow my stomachache ruse worked like a dream and as the winter got worse I used the excuse more often until one day my Mum insisted I went with her to work rather than stay home alone. I assumed that I would sit in a corner reading or doing homework but my Mum had other ideas. She was no fool - I realize now that she knew my stomach ache was an elaborate excuse to avoid going to College. Her intentions were good but rather than confront me she planned to make my 'off sick' day sufficiently uncomfortable so that I wouldn't do it again.

Initially at the tiny shop I did read and study but it wasn't long before Mum and the manageress, who I called Auntie Rachel, got me helping them by sorting out magazines and tidying the shelves. Soon the shop was spotless and though reluctant to admit it my Mum seemed very pleased with my work. For rather than being humiliated at having to work in a bridal shop surrounded by beautiful dresses, I rather enjoyed myself. I lapped the whole experience up like a cat with the cream. I found all the dresses enchanting, the sensual feel of the silks, the stiffness of the netting and the crisp fresh linen smell. I spent as much time as I could without arousing suspicion flicking through all the fabulous wedding shoes and sexy lingerie. I know it wasn't natural but I couldn't help myself and I dreamily walked amongst the racks of beautiful dresses wondering what it would be like to actually wear one of the feminine creations. Yet despite all these distractions there was little for a young man to do and I soon began to feel bored.

I watched my Mum and Auntie Rachel with interest. Auntie Rachel had a wedding dress on a tailors dummy and was frantically making alterations in preparation for a wedding the forthcoming Saturday. Mum was thumbling rather clumsily with a smaller bridesmaids dress for the same event. I watched in fascination as she delicately handled the billowing skirts and layers of netting. She looked flustered, pricked her finger and glared at me angrily as if it was my fault.

'It's no good,' she said to Rachel crossly 'I can't work on this beautiful dress without a model if I'm not careful I'll ruin it.' She pointed to the tailors dummy that Rachel was working on miserably. 'When will you be finished? It's ridiculous having only one model to do this work.'

Rachael smiled with understanding, 'I'm sorry but I'll be using this for the rest of the day. You'll just have to improvise.' Mum was furious and looked at me for inspiration. It was then I saw the first wicked glint in her eye and as she looked back at the bridesmaids dress all spread out across the floor I knew what was going through her mind. 'David,' she said sharply. 'You may as well make yourself useful.' She paused and smiled. 'You will have to be bridesmaid.'

My heart leapt a beat and my pulse began to race as I suddenly realised that I was being given the golden opportunity to cross dress. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to dress as a pretty bridesmaid without ridicule or secrecy. My heart began to flutter and my mouth felt as dry as a desert. Of course my Mum had a hidden agenda, she wanted to humiliate me so I would never miss College again but unbeknown to her rather than be repulsed I loved the idea. But I had no choice as before I could say anything she was standing in front of me pulling at my jeans and T-Shirt like a woman possessed. I felt it necessary to complain but my attempts where probably meek and pathetic and I soon stood before them in only my vest and pants. This was rather humiliating – as I forget that half the shop was glazed by a massive window and being on the high street I was on full view of all the passers by and for the first time that day I noticed all the shoppers peering inside to see what all the commotion was.

'What a great idea,' Auntie Rachel said with a dry smile. 'He's perfect, rake thin, about the right size and I've not noticed before but he has a fragile beauty and a complexion that looks as if its been airbrushed.' She was right, for a nineteen year old boy I was underdeveloped and had a frame more reminiscent of a ten year old girl.

What could I do? As before I could say "poesy" Mum held the pretty bridesmaids dress out for me to step in to. I looked at it closely. It was a classic cut bridesmaid or communion dress in a sumptuous Ivory silk. It had a satin bodice with a round neck and short puffed sleeves and from what I could see it had a button back fastening. According to Rachel who seemed to be getting increasingly excited, it had a three quarter length organza skirt that was fully lined with a stiff net petticoat and was one of her most popular lines. I could understand why it was beautiful and had a stunning, contrasting dark purple organza tie sash that looked amazingly long. All in all it looked incredibly girlish and very inviting.

'No, I'm not a girl,' I say half-heartedly in a tone that was reminiscent of an English public-school girl.

Mum and Rachel laughed in unison. 'Don't be silly. Use your imagination. Can't you pretend,' Rachel said. 'In a way it's a rite of passage for every pretty girl.

'But I'm not a young girl' I sob faking misery as if an Oscar depended on it. 'I'm a young virile man.'

'Maybe so but YOU are very pretty and YOU will make a beautiful girl and a particularly sweet bridesmaid.' Mum was now laughing. 'Besides if you can't go to College you'll just have to help me.'

'No,' I squeal like an excited schoolgirl, 'this isn't right,' yet irrespective of my complaints I nervously I took a tentative step forward and pointed a toe into the dress as if stepping naked into a cold enchanted lake. Though Mum was reacting perfectly normally, it seemed faintly absurd. I knew nothing about weddings – I was far to young to even consider marriage – but I felt a strange calling. I'm not sure if it was bridesmaid specific but from that moment on I just knew dresses were for me. Just like strawberries and cream I felt we where made to be together. My cock grew stiffer as I held my breath as the ruffles of lace immediately tickle my smooth leg and a strange dizzy sensation splashes throughout my body.

'That's a good girl' Mum mocks as I step in the second leg. 'We will soon have you looking like a pretty girl should.' I grinned openly for the first time as she pulled it to my waist and paused studying my flat chest and the dresses bodice. 'Oh dear darling, we need some help up top. Here, hold this.' She made me hold the dress by the bodice around me like a curtain as she disappeared to rummage in a large draw at the back of the shop. She soon found what she was looking for and she wrapped the lightly padded bra round my chest. Even though I loved every second I felt my face redden as she clipped me in, padded the cups lightly with some tissues and pulled the dress up over my shoulders. To her delight my temperature rose and I felt me face redden as she fed an arm into each puffed sleeves. Almost immediately the lightly boned silk bodice gave me an admirable figure and Mum… changing her tune somewhat, smiled proudly.

The dress was magnificent - so soft and flattering with feminine and elegant line. It was much better than I ever imagined. Trussed up like a little girl surrounded by pretty dresses should have sent me into panic but in stark contrast I found the whole experience delightfully comforting and my little cock began to stiffen. To this day I'm not sure what happened next but this beautiful dress not only made me look like a little girl but also wrapped in its sumptuous frills and lace I even felt like an angelic little girl. It was magical. I didn't feel like a young man anymore. I was born again. I felt like a sweet angelic girl for whom butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. I didn't want to play Rugby or roughly ride my bike. I wanted to look irresistibly pretty, comb my hair, experiment with make-up, help Mum with the cooking and play with dolls. I felt as if life had taken on a new meaning. Overjoyed I shook my hips and watched in awe as the dress swung rustling around me and a warm draft whistled around my legs. I shivered and momentarily shut my eyes imagining myself skipping proudly up the isle behind a beautiful bride. Rachel put on some beautifully romantic harp music and I screwed my eyes tight as Mum took a long blonde wig from the mannequin in the window and stretched it gently over my head. The transformation was complete. I made a wish…Yes, A wish… Not content with dressing as a bridesmaid I now wanted to go to an actual wedding and be a bridesmaid. All dressed up with nowhere to go I would have given anything to be a real bridesmaid but knew that was imposable… or was it?

Mum didn't seem to notice the tiny smile on my face as she rather aggressively buttoned me securely into the dress obviously displeased that I wasn't crying with shame, humiliated and ridiculed, pleading for her to undress me. She tried a different tack as she tied the long purple sash into a huge pretty bow. 'Oh my darling what a princess. This dress has done more than strip you of your masculinity its taken years off your age aren't you glad you didn't go to ghastly College? And talking of which how's that nasty stomach ache now? Gone?'

I knew her game and smiled angelically. 'It's feeling better,' I said but I didn't really care I felt like a fairytale princess. A beautiful princess with long sunny blonde, shiny hair from an enchanted land full of flowers and sweet music. I just loved the feeling of the dress tickling my slender legs, the bra tight round my chest. The skirts swirling round my waist. I take a deep breath and smelt the feminity. Mum holds me lightly by the hand and steps me round the shop like a spoilt poodle at a dog show. I forget who I was and minced round as directed swaying my hips, crossing my legs, swinging my arms lightly from side to side like a real girl.

'This is all very nice but can I remind you of the time. If I don't get these finished today we're in trouble.'

'Heels and tights,' Rachel says abruptly. 'If he's to dress as a bridesmaid he needs white shoes and I don't want his sweaty feet unprotected in a new pair from stock.'

'Hmm good idea,' Mum says thoughtfully, 'and while we are accessorizing - my darling daughter needs...' Her hands shoot up my skirts, hook my pants with a manicured nail and yank them mercifully to the floor. '…A pretty pair of knickers.' Rachel and Mum both laugh as my pants lay crumbled around my ankles and for the first time I feel rather foolish. In truth I was more concerned that Mum had noticed my little excited cock as I couldn't see how to justify such arousal. It was one thing to be dressed against your will as a little girl but a totally different ball game if she saw I was getting off on it. Fortunately Mum didn't notice and was delighted with my "knickers" reaction but as I stood there their eyes studying me from head to toe the thought of wearing a pair of pretty girls panties took hold and as I imagined their soft caress and I almost toppled off the box.

'What do you think?' she said to Rachel, 'a pretty pair of high sided panties, a thong or a pair of frilly French knickers?' I shudder and almost cum against the netting underskirt that rubbed teasingly against me. Mum frowns. I think this was because my reaction wasn't as she hoped as she thought upping the anti would get me more embarrassed. Oh how wrong she was as I tried not to show any more enthusiasm as the two ladies rummaged in a large box for the most feminine pair of kickers they could find.

So a few minutes later I was back on the box dressed in the pretty bridesmaids dress with a pair of stretchy ivory tights on my legs. 10cm ivory coloured satin heels on my feet and a pair of amazing silky smooth knickers on my butt plus yet another net underskirt. It was as if a light bulb had been switched on in my head. I felt energised, full of excitement – hope, even. I twisted my hips and looked down at my feminised form. I could hardly see my tiny feet due to the net underskirts that were so frilly my dress stuck out horizontally like a ballerina. As I gazed in awe I realised how I was unable to hold my hands down by my sides due to all the material and holding them bent at the elbow with my wrists ever so slightly limp just accentuated my total feeling of feminity. Everything felt so delicious – so perfect. I never dreamt all these pretty things could be so comfortable. It was so luxurious and easy to wear - it gave a look of real feminine luxury. The panties cut into my groin, the boned bodice squeezed my stomach so hard it knocked the breath out of me and the padded bra made me feel top heavy. Above all my nylon covered legs and layers of netting underskirt made me feel open, exposed and very vulnerable. For the first time in my life I began to feel what it was like to be a pretty girl and I was jealous. Yes jealous! I knew then I wanted to be like this all the time and I wondered what it would be like to dress as a young lady more my age. My little cock began to spasm and a sense of relief ran through me as all the skirts and lingerie masked any erection. Suddenly aware of an audience I glanced up and out the huge shop window and saw half a dozen women staring inside. All of them eyes wide open exchanging admiring glances amongst each other. I felt beautiful and so special like a magical fairy on the top of a little girls musical box or a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. I felt compelled to show off so for the benefit of my audience I imagined I was holding a sparkling fairy wand and spun round on my heels, arms aloft, sending my skirts spiralling yet further outwards. Then with all eyes on me I concluded my performance with an elegant and rather over emphasised curtsey. I grinned proudly and saw an elderly lady clap and a younger mother with a pram raise her hand to her mouth in amazement, I felt so, so special.

Rachel was delighted with all the attention I bought to her shop and as I felt like a million dollars I felt we were both winners. Unfortunately my Mum didn't look so pleased. Why should she? Her evil plan had back fired as rather than humiliate me so I hated every minute of my "off sick" day she had lightened a feminine longing in me that must have laid smouldering deep within me for years. But my mum was a professional and she didn't let her personal annoyance upset Rachel or her work – In fact after awhile she seemed to accept me as an excited bridesmaid not her sissy son who was bunking off College.

Its true that day I saw Mum in a new light as she fussed with the dress like a mother to be and talked to me as if I was her daughter not her son. She sewed on the odd sequin and adjusted a frill as Auntie Rachel continued with her work. I lost track of time. I stood there stock still as directed in a trance dreaming of being carried away on horseback by a handsome young princess. I even got to enjoy their compliments as every now and then one of the two would compliment me on something. My shapely ankles, my smooth willowy legs or my enviable figure – they where spoiling me.

'The other girls would die with envy if they saw you now.' Mum chuckled and I imagined all the College girls coming into the shop staring at me open mouthed unable to comprehend what had happened to me. Then an evil gremlin got into my dream and one girl sneered nastily at me and raised my skirts aloft so all the other girls could see my masses of net under skirts, tights, pretty girls knickers and my hard, very unfeminine excited cock.

'Look how he likes to dress as a pretty girl and wear girly things,' she shrieks with laughter. 'Isn't he a pretty boy?' Suddenly all the other girls admiration dissolved and they all looked at me with abject horror. 'What a sissy,' another girl cries and then one by one they begin to taunt me. 'Sissy, sissy, sissy' they sing louder and louder. I look towards Mum and Auntie Rachel with pleading eyes hoping they will make them stop but to my horror I see they're chanting too. 'What will the other lads think of him now.' The biggest girl says. 'They always said he was a fairy.' They all laugh like hyenas and I feel my eyes reddening but then all of a sudden I'm rudely awoken as Mum tugged the lace hem downwards as she finished the dress. 'There my precious,' she says triumphantly, 'Fit for a princess.' As she did so the door of the shop suddenly opened and in marches a stern looking woman. I want to hide but the woman sees me standing on the box like a policeman directing traffic and smiles.

'Mrs Swindale,' Auntie Rachel cries 'Isn't it a lovely day.'

I cowed in horror as I realise that it's my lecturers from College.

'Hum!' she huffs 'I wish. I've got a major problem little Rebecca has got measles and can't make my daughters wedding this Saturday and I'm desperately trying to find a replacement. Can you suggest anyone?'

Mum and Rachel down tools and look at her sympathetically.

'In my day most girls would love to be a bridesmaid,' Mrs Swindale says, 'but now can I find anyone remotely interested in looking pretty and wearing a dress? No, I just don't know what's wrong with the young girls of today. One young madam even had the audacity to agree if I paid her. I ask you? I want a young girl who has a burning desire and wants above anything else to be a sweet angelic bridesmaid.'

Mum and Auntie Rachel look at me then each other. 'We might just know someone,' they both say together looking at me. 'We are just doing the final alterations to your Rebecca's dress and we have a very willing helper here.' They both look at me and smile wickedly.

The penny drops and Mrs Swindale curls her lips to reveal a set of stained and crooked teeth. 'Oh my saviours. Are you the pretty girl I'm looking for?'

I nodded automatically

'I thought I recognised you. Such a lovely girl and so familiar,' her voice trailed off as she walked around the box inspecting my dress and me.

'But it's not you,' she purred rubbing her chin thoughtfully, 'It's the dress, isn't it?' I nod as she laughs and I feel a huge sense of relief. 'What a beautiful little girl. You will be perfect. Oh do say you'll come? Please do? You'll have a lovely day. And don't worry you needn't stay in this beautiful bridesmaids dress all day. After the service and during the reception I'm sure you can dress in something more trendy.'

Oh the very thought! A whole day dressed as a pretty bridesmaid and the evening as a girl. My mind raced and I began planning mentally what I should wear. I imagined a pink hippie dress, a pretty lemon dress with a floral pattern and strangely a leather mini skirt and a boob tube. Then I imagined a dainty pair of frilly knickers on my plump arse and I shook my head in disbelief but my mind was in overdrive and my excited cock spasmed and dampened my knickers. I opened my mouth to accept but Mum answered quickly on my behalf.

'I'm sure this little girl will love to be your daughters bridesmaid this Saturday. What do you say Cindy?'

Cindy? I'm slow to respond to my new name and I stare open mouthed at her unable to even utter a sound.

'Good that's settled then Cindy would love to be your pretty bridesmaid.' But then her face suddenly changed and a frown stretched across her forehead. 'Lets hope that her nasty stomach ache has gone by then.'